History: Founding Four
by Hand Steroids
Summary: In times of war, history is written by the victor, in this case, that would be Godric Gryffindor. All the old texts say that Slytherin left, but why? And where did he go?
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**This story line belongs to Im Reading. Harry Potter and such do not belong to me._

* * *

_A man said to the universe: "Sir, I exist!"_

_"However," replied the universe, "the fact has not created in me a sense of obligation."_

_-Stephen Crane_

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1. Harry 'Solo' Potter

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Harry tapped his fingers on his desk. Behind him, George was tinkering with some new invention behind him at the work counter. His desk was covered with files and notes, pens and parchment. In the center of his desk were several leather bags of varying sizes.

"George, what are you working on?" Harry leaned back in his chair, placing his feet on the desk. The room they were in was organized chaos. Unfinished and untested inventions were placed periodically on the shelves around the room, the ingredients used in the making listed over the side compartment where the actual ingredients were stored.

On the other side of the room were boxes and rows of finished products, ready to be sent out to correspondents. Their labels were obscure, such as _Refuge Ropes_ and _Wild Fire Wackers. _

George looked up when Harry spoke to him, a smile on his face. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Harry smirked, rising from his seat to make his way over to the counter where the red-head was working. George shielded his work, slapping one of Harry's hands that had attempted to take the work. Harry took the offended limb to his body, gasping in false pain. "George, couldn't you at least let me see what it is? Just a little peek?"

George grinned and shook his head. "Harry, Harry. You should know better now. When I work on an invention of the such, you only get to see the finished product." He reached out and ruffled Harry's black hair playfully. "Maybe I finally found a way to tame your hair."

Harry ducked out of the way of George's hand. "Then you have to let me see it. I have been waiting for you to invent something that would actually work on my hair for ages."

George grinned, tauntingly. "You will just have to wait. In the meantime, who is this pretty lady who I heard you had a date with?"

Harry pulled a chair around and sat in it, leaning back so only two legs were on the floor. "Wouldn't you like to know?" George placed what ever he was working on in a cubby, only this one had a door that only opened to George's magical signature.

"Come on Solo, you know you can tell me. It's not like it is my sister or anything." Harry chuckled softly. "Who else, my beautiful wife, Loria"

George huffed. "So what did she look like?" Harry looked at George darkly. It was a long standing joke between the two ever cense Harry had started dating Loria. She wasn't quite as good at shifting features as Tonks was, but she liked to play with Harry by going out with the raven-haired man as a different looking woman on each date.

"She was beautiful of course. Long blonde hair and deep blue eyes, but she was easy to pick out this time, seeing as how she is with child." George grinned darkly.

Harry groaned at the look on his friend's face. "Yes George, I know that you will corrupt my child to the fullest. You are going to be the godfather after all."

"Why Harry, it sounds like you doubt my abilities to teach the young everything and anything they need to know to live life to its fullest."

Harry shook his head. "Never George, I could never doubt you. After all, you corrupted innocent me with the Marauders Map."

George sighed at the memory. "That was one of our proudest moments when you started to join the ranks of the Weasley Twins."

Harry crossed his legs as he put his feet on the counter. "Ah, the old times when all we had to worry about were Voldieshorts and Umbridge. You know that they kept a small piece of your portable swamp underneath one of the windows. I repeat, Flitwick said it was 'an amazing piece of magic.'"

George walked around the counter and pushed Harry's chest, sending him sprawling to the floor with a loud crash.

"Bloody Hell!" Harry glared daggers at the red-head, who was smirking quite evilly. Harry groaned as he stood up. "Fuckwit, what was that for? After all I have done for you?"

"Solo, what have I told you?" George questioned the raven-haired man. Harry scowled darkly. "Never get on the bad side of a prankster, they prank you worse than when you are on their good side."

George grinned widely, clapping his hands together. "Very good Solo, very good. You have finally started to remember the first few lessons that Forge and Gred have taught you."

Harry grumbled softly under his breath. He brushed down his jeans before tying three of the bags onto his belt. "So, what exactly have you finished?" He ran his hand through his hair softly as George danced around the work room, taking a few products off the shelves.

"Here you go, special, Harry Hair Gel." George handed him a rather large white jar. When Harry opened it up, the gel was a sparkling black colour. "Not an original name, but it should work. The jar is charmed so that you never run out."

"By George, George you are brilliant!" George only nodded proudly in acceptance. Harry took a dab of the gel and ran it through his dark hair. It began to mold and shape his hair. George conjured a mirror up and showed Harry his reflection. "Just think about the hair style you want and it will make it the best it can. Rather nifty invention if I don't say so me self."

"Damn George, if I didn't love the Weasley family already I think I would have fallen in love again." George puckered his lips making irritating kissing noises.

"Oh stop it George. What else do you have?" George placed two more items before Harry, who was currently putting his jar of gel in a pocket. Pointing to the first one, George began to tell what they were.

"This one is a new addition to the candies. Hiccup bars. The other is a rather descript form of alcohol, giving the chewer just the right amount of alcohol without a crash or hangover, in ten delightful types of alcohol." Harry picked up a piece of the gum and tested it, nodding after the first chew. "These are brilliant George."

"You should consider doing a butterbeer variety for those not of age. I would have killed for some during school." George nodded and continued.

"So past the Hiccup Bars and UTI gum, we have a form of vanishing cream, for vanishing the undesirable wrinkle or gray hair. It works like a charm. I tested it on an old dog, turned black as a hat without looking stupidly gaudy."

Harry studied the canister carefully. "What have you decided to call it?" George looked over at Harry slyly. "Should I really tell you?" Harry paused for a minute before shaking his head. George chuckled. "Smart young one."

Harry tapped his head, grinning. George pulled out a necklace. "Save the best for last. Dream Catcher. It allows you to go back in time to view your most precious and happiest memories and dreams. I managed to get some of the sand used in time turners for it actually."

Harry took the charm from George, holding it up in the light. "How do you use it?"

"You touch the charm and whisper a word that the buyer sets and it takes you into your past. I had to modify the sands so that you wouldn't interfere with the proceeds of the past, but you are just a passerby, they can't see you, but you can see them."

Harry stared in wonder. He fingered the charm, a silver wolf outlined in black. "Can I test it?" George looked slightly offended. "Who do you think I am a robber?"

Harry shrugged before twirling it around his wrist. "Thanks George."

George huffed, before rolling his eyes. "What can I say?"

They walked out into the front of the store where employees were beginning to stock up for the day. "So Solo, what are you going to name the kid?"

Harry smiled. George referred to him as Solo anywhere in public so as to not cause screaming mobs of Harry Potter fans. "If the baby is a boy, Adrian Alexander, if not, then Elizabeth Lillian."

George smiled as he took a few boxes of merchandise from the boxes and put them in an expandable bag. He handed the bag to Harry, slung it over his shoulder in fact.

"George, what are you doing?" Harry eyed the Weasley closely. George smiled and shook his head. "I just feel that you might need them."

Harry widened his eyes and fingered his newest wand, Brazilian Cherry, 10 ¾ inches with the shared core of an Ice phoenix and the blood of a thestral. Instead of repairing his old wand, he opted to visit a small shopee that created custom wands. He felt much more comfortable with this wand than with the other wand from Ollivander's.

"George I think you might be getting along to well with Luna." Luna Lovegood was a rather eccentric personality, but she had toned down quiet a lot since school. George shook his head. "No, she told me you might need a few things. I have no idea why."

In truth, Harry felt that she was a rather occult Seer, but because of some of the things she had said, most people tended to push off her words. George had taken an immediate liking to blonde and had even gone on a few dates with the Ravenclaw.

Harry was just about to remark to the words when an explosion pushed him to the floor. Harry caught himself with his hands, but noticed the shards of silver-black glass of the wolf dream catcher. The sand coated his hand and Harry saw George scrambling for his wand. He tried to mutter an 'its ok', the world around him became disturbingly dizzy, and all was dark.

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_Notes: _

_1) Ron is dead. I do not particularly like Ron in the least. That is why George is the Godfather._

_2) Harry works with George. He runs several stores in different countries, but George is the inventor._

_3) Never do I like Ginny and Harry together. From the original storyline, I decided with some similarities to his daughter, but that is about all. Loria is a french woman who is rather in-between in her magics, rather like a buffer zone for dark and light._

_4) Harry's nickname is Solo._

_5) If anyone can figure out what the nickname refers to I will give you a cookie. (virtually of course.)_

_**-Hand Steroids**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer:**This story line belongs to I'm Reading. Harry Potter and such do not belong to me._

* * *

_A man said to the universe: "Sir, I exist!" _

_"However," replied the universe, "The fact has not created in me a sense of obligation."_

_-Stephen Crane_

_

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_

2. Elizabeth 'Lily' Potter

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Elizabeth Lillian Potter sighed as her mother draped several bolts of cloth over her shoulders and around her waist. Some of the more interesting patterns contrasted horridly with her golden hair, others accented the golden hues beautifully.

"Here Lily, try on this." Her mother handed her a beautiful indigo dress. Lily found herself ushered into a changing room, putting the dress on. It was a beautiful corset dress, with black lacing. The dress fell to the top of her feet in a cascade of silk. The sleeves were side-cut, leaving her shoulders bare. The sleeves fell down to her wrists in loose fabric, an easy design to allow a throwing dagger or knife.

Lily laced the corset up, and twirled around before the mirror. She felt very much vain in the beautiful dress. She stepped outside the dressing room and stood model for her mother and the seamstress. Her mother clasped her hands together, smiling. "Oh, this dress is simply gorgeous!"

The seamstress, who had several pins in her hair, pulled out her wand and pulled up a few hems and re-did a few stitches on the dress. When she was done she stood up, brushing off her skirts. "There my dear, you simply look stunning."

Loria took her daughter's hand, leading her to the large mirror. "The colour accents your hair beautifully and simply brings out your eyes."

Lily examined herself in the mirror. Her mother was correct as always. Her hair, of which came from her mother, seemed to be glowing. Her eyes which were currently a rich blue hue, were darkened by the dress. Her fey appearance made her look like royalty, or even one of the royal elves.

"It's beautiful mother!"

Loria turned to the seamstress, pulling out a checkbook. "How much?"

The seamstress walked behind her counter, pulling out a calculator. "Thirty Galleons, Mrs. Potter."

The aristocratic woman handed the seamstress a check before turning back to Lily. "Lily, change please, we must be on our way."

Lily glided into the room and carefully took off the dress. Hanging up the dress she changed back into her black skirt with a white blouse under a black vest with silver pinstripes. She took the dress with her as she emerged from the dressing room and the seamstress placed the dress in a protective bag.

"Now remember, do not shrink the dress. Dry clean only. And here is a token of my store. Present it to anyone who works at Youvania Formalwear and services will be available for you at any time in history." The seamstress handed her a gold coin, which looked to be at least a couple centuries old. A black silk ribbon was attached to the coin. It was designed to match anything and everything the wearer wore.

"Thank you." Lily put the necklace on after checking it for charms and spells and curses. It was a simple decoration, but was a beautiful addition to the simple outfit she wore.

"Come Lily, I need to pick up some things from George and then we need to get you back to Hogwarts."

Lily thanked the seamstress once more before she left the shop, following her mother over to Diagon Alley. They passed Gringotts and made their way past Eeylops Owl Emporium to the joke shop that her godfather George Weasley owned.

"Uncle George, where are you?" The red-head peeked out from behind the workroom door, smiling broadly when he saw his goddaughter.

"Lily! What a delight to see you here today." George embraced her in a bear-hug before holding her out slightly, looking at her carefully. "You are simply beautiful. Your father would be so proud of you."

Lily almost missed the flash of pain in her godfather's eyes, but having known him since birth, she knew his expressions all to well.

"So, what is my very Slytherin like uncle doing now?" George laughed, his eyes crinkling. "Wouldn't you like to know, hmn?"

Lily punched George on the arm playfully. "Oh come on, give a beautiful woman some slack. You only have one goddaughter after all."

George pulled one of Lily's golden locks. "Come with me, I happen to do have something for you."

George led Lily into the workroom, and took a few things off the shelves. He placed a bracelet of gold and black bands on her wrist. "Here you go a simple bracelet for my beautiful goddaughter."

Lily shook her wrist, smiling over the way the bracelet jingled. George smiled and handed her a circlet made of a fine white metal. George took the circlet from her hands and placed it on her head. "They are both made of Ice Metal. The bracelet will change colors when you concentrate on it. The circlet will stay white.

"The only thing special about the circlet is that you can place as much knowledge inside the metal. And for my young Ravenclaw goddaughter, I took the care to leave that to you."

Lily hugged her godfather before taking the circlet off and fingered it. "How do I put the knowledge inside it?"

George led her out of the work room into the main store. "You can where it while you study or you can hold it in your hands on top of the book with the knowledge you wish to add and say 'compio'."

Loria was looking at some of the new release products when they got to the front room. She turned to look at her daughter as she came up to them.

Lily smiled brightly when they approached her mother. George handed Lily some leather bags. "I have the feeling you might need it. Have a good time at school my dear flower." George kissed Lily on the cheeks like the French. Unlike some unknowledgeable persons, he kissed her three times, once on one cheek and twice on the other.

Lily hugged her godfather tight, smiling brightly. George turned to Loria pointedly. "If you ever need anything Loria, you know where to find me." Loria smiled softly before kissing the red-head goodbye.

Lily and her mother left the store via floo powder calling out 'Hogwarts'. Having cast a repelling charm on themselves, when they emerged in the headmistress's office they did not cover the entire room with soot.

They politely let themselves out of the office and made their way to the Head Girl's room. Loria hung the dress up in the wardrobe before embracing her daughter. "Lily, I love you and always will. If your father could see you he would be bursting at the seams he would be so proud."

"Oh mother, I wish everyday that father were here. Do you really think that he would be proud?" Lily buried her face into her mother's shoulder. Loria closed her eyes. "Oh Lily, I know he would be."

Lily looked up at her mother; her previously blue eyes now a vibrant green. "Thanks mother. I love you."

Loria smiled. "I love you too." Lily watched her leave the room. Lily took out her new dress, feeling the smooth material with her fingers.

She put the dress on, lacing it up in the back. She placed a few of her throwing daggers in holsters on her right arm and strapped her wand to her left. She put the circlet on and examined herself in the mirror. She was stunning. The bracelet that Uncle George gave her earlier shifted colors slightly to match the shade of her dress. She looked like nobility.

She was jolted out of daze by a cough. Turning around she saw the headmistress. "Oh, Professor McGonagall, I am so sorry, I did not hear you." She pronounced the words carefully, seeing as how she usually reverted to either Parseltounge or French when she was nervous or shocked.

"My apologies, Miss. Potter, I merely wanted to give you your time turner back." Professor McGonagall handed her the time-glass. Lily placed the gold chain over her head.

"Lily you look beautiful. You will stun the entire population at the Yule Ball." Lily blushed before grabbing her cloak and placing it on her bed with the bag she used for her weekend excursion with her mother.

"Thank you for allowing me to get my dress." McGonagall smiled softly. "It was no problem."

Lily sat on her bed, her arm on the cloak. She was about to say something when the headmistress's wand lit up, striking her with a silver beam.

She could see McGonagall rushing over to her, calling her name, before everything when blurry and dark.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer:**This story line belongs to Im Reading. Harry Potter and such do not belong to me._

* * *

_A man said to the universe: "Sir, I exist!"_

_"However," replied the universe, "the fact has not created in me a sense of obligation."_

_-Stephen Crane_

* * *

1. James 'Prongs' Potter

* * *

"Potter!" James Potter winced as his name was bellowed out by Auror Moody. He had just finished an assignment with obliviating several muggles over a dragon spotting.

"Potter, follow me. It seems, past my better judgment, that Scrimgeour wants you to handle the new object the Unspeakables have designed." Moody, his face gnarled from cutting hexes, grimaced as if in pain. "Why that man would let you touch it is beyond me."

James, now more interested, fell into stride with Auror Moody, who was limping along rather harshly. Moody had lost his leg in a vicious battle against one of Voldemort's more vicious followers. He now has a wooden leg.

The two aurors walked into the elevator where several Ministry Employees were carefully avoiding the owl droppings. Moody began to get fidgety in the closed quarters, which was no surprise seeing as how paranoid he is. James leaned against the metal wall as Moody told the elevator director to take them down to the Department of Mysteries.

The elevator sped down, stopping at almost every floor. James greeted several of his acquaintances as they entered and exited the elevator. Moody snarled something awful under his breath, something about the 'mess' that the owls were leaving.

About twenty minutes latter, they had managed to arrive at the doors of the Department of Mysteries with an oddly minimal amount of bird on them or their shoes. Moody grunted as he pushed open the door, casting scourgify on himself. James followed suit as the door shut behind him.

Moody began counting the doors as they past them, each door a different color and style. The corridor was eerily quiet and still, giving the entire department a sense of forbade. Moody came to a halt at door number fifty-six on the left side.

"Here we are," Moody knocked on the door three times, "Come along, Potter. No time for dallying."

James, holding back a witted response, followed Moody into the room as the door opened. He surveyed the room, accessing potentiality from the contents. He was moderately surprised. The room was full of pale golden sand.

Narrowing his eyes, he stood next to Moody who had come to a halt in front of an Unspeakable. The woman in blue robes had bright, unreadable blue eyes, and black hair tied in a bun at the nape of her neck.

"Auror Moody and Auror Potter here to acquire object GS1587332." James became curious as to what this object was now. It obviously was important.

The woman narrowed her eyes and nodded sharply. "Remain here. Refrain from touching anything."

The woman made her way through a door and returned shortly after with something in her hand. She handed it to James with a look of scorn.

"Do not tamper with anything else you want to suffer a fate worse than death." She glared at James, who tried valiantly to hide his discomfort. "One band out of place will send you places that only few have the ability to control themselves in."

James examined the object with disdain. It was a small time-glass with the same pale golden sand that was in the room. It was surrounded by gold bands and was hooked onto a gold chain.

"Auror Potter, should anything happen to this, may it be on your head."

James nodded, quite sincere. "This here is a time-turner. I will not delve into facts that you need not. Go ahead and slip it over your head, it shaln't bite. You are to keep it hidden at all times on your person. No one other than select few who know already about this shall know. I mean NO one."

"Understand?"

James nodded, whereas Moody only snorted in reply. The woman pointed to the door, clearly dismissing them.

James led the way out but let Moody resume control of the reins. The old Auror led him out of the Department of Mysteries and back into one of the less used elevators that were clearly used for returning to the upper levels of the building.

James stepped out of the elevator, ready to clock out. "James, remember what the Unspeakable said."

James grinned boyishly. "Of course Moody, I would never not listen."

Moody was about to smack James atop the head but James ducked out just in time to avoid the hit. "See you Moody."

Moody growled as he pushed the buttons to move to another level. James made sure that the time turner was underneath his shirt before entering the clock room, to end his shift. He swiftly clocked out and joined his best mate on the exit.

"Hey Sirius, see you later?" Sirius punched him hard on the shoulder. "See you in two weeks; hope you can enjoy your Halloween now."

James smirked at Sirius before stepping onto the platform to apperate away.

James landed on the hard ground with a soft pop. He was currently standing in Godric's Hollow, where his home was. He stepped up to a gate and whispered, "The Potters live at Potter House, Godric's Hollow."

The gate opened, granting him entrance. The moon shone overhead as he walked the path to the front door. He opened the door to the sweet smells of food.

"Lily flower, Harry, I'm home." He walked into the kitchen to find Lily at the stove and Harry in a play-pen.

Lily turned and smiled at James before kissing him. "So what has the cook made for dinner?"

Lily turned back to her cooking as James picked up Harry. "Oh I am making a cake. I picked up a few pizzas because this is going to be my last chance to have muggle food for a predictable while."

Lily took out a two plates and piled some cheese pizza onto them. "Here you are James."

James devoured the pizza instantly. "How was work?" James groaned slightly. The dragon incident was still fresh in his mind, and his backside.

"Got flamed by a Welsh Green. I swear, those wild dragons shouldn't be allowed."

Lily kissed him and began rubbing his back softly. "Well James, Welsh Greens are fairly protective of their nests and young. You must have run afoul of them during hatching season."

"Urg, don't remind me. It's quite unfortunate that dragons are almost immune to magic. Then we could just place notice-me-not charms on them directed towards muggles."

Lily hummed softly as she took the cake out of the oven. She placed the cake on a tray and placed a cover over it. "It is not for today. Do not even think about it."

James scowled. Lily truly knew him to well. "Come dear, its time to get Harry here to bed."

James and Lily put Harry to bed, tucking him in softly. There was a knocking at the door and James started. He tapped down the stairs as Lily was tiding up the room.

What he saw was not pleasing. He was staring into the face of Lord Voldemort. "Lily, take Harry and run!"

James twirled, but he was too late. Voldemort cast a curse at him, hitting him squarely in his chest. James hacked painfully and held his hand to his chest. He fell back against the wall, unable to move. He heard Voldemort's deep vicious laugh and the room began to spin. He closed his eyes and the darkness consumed him.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer:**This story line belongs to Im Reading. Harry Potter and such do not belong to me._

* * *

_A man said to the universe: "Sir, I exist!"_

_"However," replied the universe, "the fact has not created in me a sense of obligation."_

_-Stephen Crane_

* * *

4. Salazar Slytherin

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It was excruciatingly cold. Harry could feel his body shiver at the dampness of the atmosphere. His head pounded, throbbed behind closed eyes. Very slowly he opened them to find the night sky above him. He could see the North Star and Sirius, the Dog Star. The quarter moon was overhead, shining brightly.

He tried to raise his head and found he couldn't. He tried to lift his arms only to find them restrained. His legs were in the same predicament. Harry fought back the welling panic within him as he attempted to break free of the bonds. His temples were throbbing, his body aching and he couldn't even move his head.

His voice had left him. His throat felt scratchy and raw and his mouth tasted of copper. He could feel warmth flowing from his forehead, a warm sticky substance. The substance trailed down his face, intertwining with his hair-line. He blinked furiously, glaring at the silver moon.

He tried to scream, whisper even, but the noise wouldn't leave his throat. A hand touched his shoulder and he flinched, well his body attempted to. The hand ran fingers over his chest and up his neck, resting on his cheek. A face leaned over his. It was a woman, about twenty five, with pale gray eyes and dirty blonde hair. She was not beautiful. She wasn't even truly pretty. She had average features, very feminine.

Her gray eyes stared into Harry's eyes, analyzing. She had a look of interest and concern. Her lips were full as she smiled, showing white teeth. Her smile widened as she saw that his eyes responded. She placed a single finger to her lips as she traced his face with her hand.

His head throbbed violently. Apparently his pain showed in his eyes because the woman blinked, her eyes showing sorrow. She backed away as he closed his eyes, trying to reduce the pain he fell into an uneasy sleep.

The first thing he noticed was that his head was no longer throbbing. He rolled over off his back onto his hands and knees. Apparently his body was no longer restrained. He shook his head, blinking his eyes violently. He had no glasses on, yet he could see quite clearly. Harry pushed himself up onto his knees and stretched.

That was when he knew something was truly off. Despite his body feeling perfectly fine, his body was larger, different. Looking around, he found himself in the middle of a circle of ivory chalk, weaved with runes. He stared at the runes. Looking around himself he found that he was within a medium sized room with a mirror, a single mirror. Harry frowned and stood up, finding himself unsteady. He walked out of the runes to the mirror.

He was not himself any longer. His hair was black still but longer, thinner and straight. It came past his shoulders in a soft silky cascade. His face was stronger, more masculine, slightly tanned. He had a scar running down his face, coming quite near to damaging his right eye. His eyes!

His eyes, one a bright emerald green were now a smoky gray-green hue. There was a dark gray ring surrounding the main color. He found himself mesmerized. They were not horrid, far from it. They stood out less than his previous emerald eyes but they were unique in them self.

And his scar, it was gone. Vanished, disappeared. He was free from the curse of being the famed boy-who-lived.

His face held the traces of an older time, a strong jaw line, sharp nose and broad forehead, nicely placed cheekbones. He was handsome.

His shoulders were broad, his muscles wiry yet not bulky. Overall he stood about six feet tall. He was garbed in a simple green tunic with a black belt around his waist and black breeches. He had on gleaming black boots that came to an end right below his knees.

Harry felt like he knew his face from somewhere, but it slipped his mind. His concentration was disturbed when the door opened and the woman from last night came in a black cloak in her arms. He stiffened but relaxed slightly as she smiled warmly.

"Who are you?" The woman smiled and shook her head.

"Who were thou?" She countered.

Harry frowned slightly at her choice of wording. "Harry Potter."

She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. "Thou art him no more. Thou are now Salazar, my son."

Harry took a step back. The Chamber of Secrets, the stone statue, his face in the mirror. Harry shook his head. "No, I cannot be."

She frowned. "You must, you weren't sent here for not anything," she strode forward placing her hand on his face. "Magick brought you here. You must understand. You_ have_ to make this accurate for the future."

Harry took a step back as the woman smiled. Her eyes flashed dangerously at his expression. "Do not worry. No harm shall befall you under the roof of my blood." She lifted her wand to her temple and withdrew a silvery-blue smoke, almost opaque.

"This will help you see." She tossed the smoke at Harry, who raised his hands in defense. The smoke hit him straight in the chest, sending him stumbling to the floor from the impact.

Harry released a groan; he held his head in his hands as he found a wall to lean against. His vision blurred and he blinked, and then blinked again. He could no longer see the room that he woke in. Instead he was in a library sitting in a chair, book open in his lap.

Words flowed into his mind, spells and charms and runes weaving their way into his head. Pictures, scenes, memories that weren't his fought for access into his mind. Lessons; potions, sword wielding, lordship occupied his mind. He could see everything and he knew everything that had happened to him before. He knew lost knowledge, vicious knowledge, and knowledge of things that had no right to exist.

Harry shivered as he was shot back to the room with the rune circle. The woman had a small smile on her face as she gazed down over him. "You understand?"

At his nod she smiled wider, her eyes widening. "Then come my son, and learn."

She helped him to his feet and shrugged the cloak she had brought with her over his shoulders. She hooked a chain under his left armpit and clasped it.

"Come, and fix this world. Make the name of Slytherin worthy." So they left the room.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry this took so long. I had a whole different senario planned out and I decided that I hated it. Of course, there is many an artist who despises their work just because it is theirs. _

_A great thanks again to I'm Reading for allowing me to adopt this story. _

_Constructive critisism is very welcome. Tell me anything you would like to see happen, hate about it, anything. _

_Hand Steroids_


	5. Chapter 5

_A man said to the universe "Sir, I exist!" _

_"However," Replied the universe, "The fact has not created in me a sense of obligation."_

_-Stephen Crane_

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5. Kestrel

* * *

"Again." Salazar snarled in frustration. He swung his long sword around, using the momentum to balance himself. Twisting, he thrust the blade, striking the shield of his opponent. The vibrations of the hit wound up his arms, sending him backward, unbalanced. His opponent struck him behind the knees with the flat of a sword, causing Salazar to fall towards the ground. Salazar found himself at the mercy of sword-point.

His opponent frowned. She moved her sword from his neck and motioned with her fingers to rise. He rose, dusting off his breeches. "Salazar, you must master this."

Salazar glared hard at the woman. "Suri, I haven't been trained from birth to sword-play. I have been attempting to master this for the two years that I have been under your tutelage."

Suri snorted, shaking her head, sending her long blonde hair waving in the moonlight. "No son of mine blood will not be able to wield a sword properly."

She picked up her cloak and draped it over her shoulders. Salazar scowled and picked up his abandoned cloak and shield. He strode over to Suri and strapped his shield onto his saddle. He mounted the steed and adjusted the sword he had sheathed.

Suri mounted her own horse and tugged on the reins. The horses broke into a light jog. "Suri, why is it that I cannot be adept at dagger and throwing knife only?"

Suri turned and glared at him. "How can you offer honorable fight to a noble man if you cannot even wield a sword and proficiently manage to disarm him?"

Salazar exhaled harshly. He bit his tongue lightly to remind himself just where he was. They rode in silence for a few moments before Suri decided that it was enough.

"Salazar, I have arranged a marriage between yourself and a noble lady. You will marry and produce an heir."

Salazar's eyes hardened at her words. He knew it would only have been a matter of time before this would arise. Men married a young maiden around the age of twenty. It was rather unnerving to see girls as young as twelve married and heavy with child.

Salazar could feel Suri's eyes on him and he tried to ignore the odd sensation. "You have almost mastered the long sword. Today was lack of concentration and discipline. You will be ready by the time you are married."

Salazar ignored her and concentrated on the clipping of his horse's shod work on the earth. To be married to someone he had not fallen in love with on his own accord seemed wrong to him. Images filtered in the back of his mind, images of his previous wife, beautiful with golden blonde hair. Salazar sighed softly.

Since he had came to his newfound self, he had learned many types of magic previously thought lost from his time's reaches. The Slytherin family had a large amount of wealthy knowledge available at their fingertips and when he was not busy mastering the long sword he was using these resources to the best of his advantage.

Salazar licked his dry lips before pulling his flask up and drinking from it. There was a possibility that he would be able to return to his time, and he wanted as much knowledge to fight Voldemort with as he could find. If it was possible…

"Who is the girl I will be marrying?" Salazar forced his voice to bar the dislike he felt for the arrangement, knowing that he would never have rest from Suri if he did not accept it.

Suri glanced at him through her grey, attentive eyes. "Her name is Essira Kestrel."

Salazar's eyes widened. The Kestrel family had a great amount of wealth and influence in the current affairs of the country. Unlike many families, they trained their women to be proper magic-wielders, able to defend themselves and protect themselves from the hatred of the muggles who were so fond of burning at the stake.

"How old is she?" Suri glared hard at Salazar, throwing daggers with her icy gaze. "She is fourteen years. She would have married sooner but she wields a great amount of magic and needed to be trained to harbor it."

Salazar sighed, silently harboring his ill content. "Very well, when is the wedding?"

"In two fortnights."

Essira held back a sigh as the seamstress made a few last second adjustments to the black gown she was garbed in. Today she would be married. As her mother explained it, it was a great honor to be able to marry into such a powerful family as the Slytherins. It was her duty to her family to see this through. Hopefully this Salazar was not like the men she had seen so far.

The men in the villages were hogs, plain and simple. They were dirty, foul-mouthed beasts who couldn't think to respect the woman who made their meals. The noble-born lads treated ladies as if they were fit only for house work and child bearing. It was quite vulgar.

Essira turned, glancing out the window. The castle yard was presented quite stunningly, not gaudy, but pretty. There were doves ready to be released after the ceremony, and rice and flower petals to be tossed.

She tucked her wand up the sleeve of her dress, concealed perfectly amongst the white silk. Her light sable colored hair was braided and tucked into a bun at the nape of her neck. She had a circlet of dwarf-foraged silver on her head, the veil now covering her face.

She was interrupted from her thoughts when a maid directed her out of the room. She was led to a staircase where she was left alone by the maid. It was traditional for the bride to approach her betrothed by herself. She stepped down the stone stairs, careful not to tread on her gown.

Essira couldn't believe her eyes. Her betrothed was attired in black breeches and a black tunic accompanied with gleaming black boots, and a black robe hooked over his shoulder with a silver chain. His black hair was tied back, drawing attention to his strong face and intensive eyes.

She took his offered arm. She noticed that he was fairly short compared to most of her father's men. But he had a kind look to him, not the look of some of the men she had come across.

He smiled softly, and Essira couldn't help but returning it. They walked into the grand hall where the ceremony was taking place. They walked down the aisle way to the platform where the priest was waiting. They kneeled on the white cloth, facing each other, hand in hand.

The priest wrapped a chain of braided silk around their hands, tying a knot at the top for fertility. A small black silk bag was strung around their hands, small tokens of good faith and marriage from both families within. Salazar took a small stone wolf from between his fingers and placed it in the bag.

Essira took a diamond hair pin, one of no magical infliction within the bag. For her it symbolized the contentment of good emotions. The priest offered them a silver needle and black silk thread.

Salazar took it with one hand and took her hand and began sewing. Only the wedded could sew the bag shut. If it was not completed then the marriage was not valid.

The bag was sewn shut. It almost hurt to think that she was a wife now to a man she only just met.

Salazar took her to his rooms where they kissed. He was so soft and kind Essira almost thought that it was a dream. But she had yet to awaken from it.

She leaned over and looked up at her sleeping husband. He was a kind man. She was truly lucky.

Perhaps she could come to love him yet. She kissed him one last time before falling into the chasm of sleep.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry it took this long to update. I started school again. Thank the God that I am a senior now. Everyone hope that I can get into the Art Institue of Charleston!!!! Damn, I love that school. I want to go into either graphic design or photography. Wish me luck._

_Reviews are always welcome, thanks._

_Hand Steroids_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer:**This story line belongs to Im Reading. Harry Potter and such do not belong to me._

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_A man said to the universe: "Sir, I exist!"_

_"However," replied the universe, "the fact has not created in me a sense of obligation."_

_-Stephen Crane_

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Chapter 6.

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Salazar sat at the polished oak table, listening to the discussion of admission into the institute. He sighed, running a hand through his sable-black hair. A brash young man with reddish-brown hair was arguing his point to the other members of the discussion, two fine ladies of high standards.

"Godric you are naïve to believe that we will forever be under the protection of the throne. What happens when the commons revolt or the church begins to hunt us?"

Godric snarled as he banged his fist on the table, a hand on his sword.

"Serpent-tongue, you consistently imagine things that are irrelevant. Are you some biased, traitorous beast that you cannot allow muggleborns into these halls?"

Salazar narrowed his eyes. He could feel the pain of tense muscles along his shoulder blades.

"Godric, you are from a high county, free from the burdens of the cruel acts of muggles. Free from the burdens of persecution of the church. You have never seen a burning, you have said so yourself. I have seen many, countless women stripped of their propriety and burned at the stake. They cannot protect themselves. What if a wizard were to lose their wand? They themselves would be burned at the stake. Innocent people, people like my wife, charred to dust to rejoin the earth in death. And yet here we are, arguing over if muggleborns should be told, not to concern the fact of wizards being revealed to their muggle parents."

Godric bristled, tense anger boiling through his blood.

"Leave, Serpent-tongue. If you cannot allow muggleborns, then you have no right to teach. Muggleborns have every right to learn and study."

Salazar sneered bitterly as he looked between Helga, Godric and Rowena.

"It is not that they cannot learn, it is the danger they bring with their knowledge. Here me, for I can see Helga is in grievance with Godric. Your children's children's children will regret your actions today. They will have to fight the coming darkness. I s-"

Salazar broke off as he was interrupted by Rowena. She was staring off at nothing, her gaze unfocused, and her golden hair shimmering in the candlelight.

"The wolf shalt leave his foraged home, upon the moonless night. Return not upon the current paths, until a wise shadow shall pass. Rejoined with blood a thousand years to come, the eagle flies to the promise lands in times of peace. Be wary; for the wolf shall lead meet its match."

Rowena shuddered violently before falling quiet, her eyes downcast. Godric froze, his face pulled into an eerie smile.

"Serpent-tongue there is your answer. Leave now with some margin of honor and never return."

Salazar closed his eyes, his mind rolling over Rowena's words.

"I will leave, but here me out. My chamber holds my silent guest, here to protect the castle. It will not help you until you repent."

Salazar stood, his eyes ice cold. "The castle will go by Hogwarts only. As you know, the flowers surrounding have provided protection for years."

"Groom, tack up Quinn and pack a fortnight of grain. Then clean his stall and place within his forage and his other tack and latch the door. Nail this to the door."

Salazar handed the groom, which was truly a student of the school, a horse shoe, foraged into the frame of a snake.

"Hang it downwards."

The groom nodded sharply and hurried away, returning quickly with a fully tack horse. The horse, Quinn, was a massive battle mount, one originating from the Netherlands, a black Friesian. He stood an impressive seventeen hands, each movement graceful and smooth.

Salazar tossed his packs over the rear of his saddle, tying the bag on. He strapped his long blade onto the pack before mounting himself. He secured his robe around his shoulders and urged Quinn forward.

Quinn ran out of the court yard, iron shod hooves pounding into the ground. Salazar could feel eyes on him, and he immediately knew it was Rowena. He did not look back.

They entered the shadows of the forest, soon to be lost to the world.

Salazar crouched, ducking behind a rather large tree. He did not quite remember the plant life being quite so over grown, but see as it may be, he proceeded forward. Cautiously he made his way towards the stable, slipping inside its doors quietly. He turned sharply and hissed out something barely a whisper. The door opened and he crept inside picking up a sack of coin.

The bag ripped the moment he lifted it, sending the gold coins falling to the ground. Swearing he pulled himself into a shadow, listening for footsteps. After a minute of silence he pulled out his wand and quickly proceeded in repairing the bag and levitating the coin into it.

Salazar tied the bag to his belt and moved forward with his wand, repairing a bag of fodder before slinging it over his shoulder. He holstered his wand and picked up a sturdy canvas horse blanket and a leather halter. The leather was cracking despite its newness.

Narrowing his eyes, Salazar slunk out of the stall, quietly shutting the door behind him. He could hear the latch locking as he moved away from the door into the shadows.

Salazar placed the blanket and halter on the ground by the stable door. Moving back pass the stall he had just exited, he crept along the wall towards the hatch, the entrance to the underground passage to the castle.

Turning the corner, Salazar froze for a split second. The hatch was cracking open and a tall, dark clothed man was emerging from its depths. Salazar reached for the knife in his boot, dropping into a fighter's stance in the cover of the shadows.

The hatch swung completely open, falling to the floor with a dull thud. The man was bent over, rising up, slightly unbalanced.

Salazar slid forward, pushing the man against a wall, his knife at the man's neck. Snarling, Salazar studied the man. He had dark eyes and a rather prominent nose, with oily black hair and sullen skin.

"Who are you?" Salazar did not expect his voice to sound so harsh, but months of only selected speaking could do that to a man.

The man narrowed his eyes and cautiously spoke. "Severus Snape."

"Well Master Snape, do inform me why someone such as yourself, who is not an attendant of the institute, has access to this passage."

Salazar had to give honor to the man. This Snape did not even show any faction of thought on his face.

"I have full access to any passage through the school per say, my status of head of Slytherin House."

Salazar sneered at the man. "And who might the Headmaster be?"

Snape looked at Salazar like he must be insane or lived under a rock for twenty years. "Albus Dumbledore is currently the headmaster of Hogwarts."

Salazar's lips thinned. So Rowena's prophecy has come to pass. How convenient.

"Tell me sir, what year it might be."

Snape glared at the man. "I will tell you if you release me."

Salazar smiled coldly and stepped backwards as Snape raised a hand to his throat.

"It is 1996 A.D. or 6073 M.D."

Salazar raised an eyebrow. Exactly a thousand years he had jumped. What irony. Salazar stared at the dark man.

"Come with me. I think it is time for you to tell me about the proceedings of the institute."

Salazar closed the hatch door with his foot, clearly showing Snape to exit the stable using the actual door. The man moved forward, gliding soundlessly over the floor.

Salazar picked up the blanket and halter and stuffed them into Snape's hands. At Snape's look of disdain, he smiled broadly, showing white teeth.

"Since you decided to disturb my trip, you are going to make yourself useful, and as I am already heaving a hefty load, it is only reasonable you share your unburdened body, Master Snape."

Snape frowned, slinging the halter over his shoulder and folding the blanket over his arm. Salazar adjusted the fodder on his shoulder.

Snape watched as Salazar lifted his fingers to his lips, whistling sharply. Nothing happened. Salazar turned, smiling towards Snape before motioning for him to follow.

They proceeded towards the forest, heading east along the small stream. Snape took the chance to examine his 'captor'. The man was wearing knee high, gleaming leather riding boots and black breeches. He had a white blouse, (for lack of a better word) over which he had a jacket similar to the older Calvary uniforms except his was black and a rather odd shade of green.

Snape scowled, still unsure about the man. He had let himself be captured, the man had intrigued him. He had heard from the hatch, the hissing of a parselmouth and the ringing of falling coin.

They approached a clearing a few feet into the forest where, standing patiently, were two rather fine horses. One was a massive stallion, complete with tack; the other was a dainty silver-grey mare with a kind, dished face. Salazar stepped up and murmured a few words, scratching the stallion fondly.

"Those are Elquinics." Salazar turned around, a knowing smile on his face. "They have been extinct for centuries."

Salazar's smile became broader even so as Snape spoke. "Master Snape, I can assure you that they are not an extinct breed. They are fair at the art of deception, mainly preserving their dignity."

Snape moved forward and cautiously raised a hand to the mare, who allowed his hand upon her neck, although reluctantly. "Such beauty, one could posses and yet a darkness within that cannot be contained."

Salazar nodded. "Well, Master Snape, you have the beautiful honor of riding Quinn, my companion of long."

Snape froze and Salazar chuckled. "Now Master Snape, you do know how to ride, do you not?"

Snape looked at Salazar for a long moment. "Of course, although the knowledge is not common amongst my collogues."

Snape moved over to Quinn and held out a hand to the Elquinic. Determining no danger the stallion sighed and Snape mounted him carefully.

Seeing Snape's wariness, Salazar chuckled once more before leaping gracefully from the ground onto the mare, who pranced on spot.

"Well Master Snape, shall we make an appearance at Hogwarts?"

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_Author's Note: Alright. I have taken forever to write this and post this. Shoot me if you will, but…_

_This is not my best work. I feel that I could write much better, but it has been so long since I posted I decided that it needed to go up. And who is to say that I cannot go back and change a few things or something. Of course I will tell you of course if I do._

_Salazar addresses Severus as Master Snape because of culture. Do we speak the same as we did fifty years ago? So who is saying that Salazar would speak the same as today's people. Master is a form of respect, just as Mistress use to the only proper way to address a married lady of a household. Mrs., Miss, and Ms. All are deviated from Mistress. Today Mistress is someone who is having a relationship with a married man. Not true back then._

_Elquinics will be explained in the next chapter, in the form of a studies journal. The journal will have notes from Salazar along with his observations._

_M.D. refers to Magic Denomination. I felt that there needed to be a date other than A.D. Because wizards do not have a specific 'belief' in religion, so who are they to follow muggle tradition?_


	7. A note to readers, not a hatius

It has come to my attention that there is some confusion between my chapters.

First of Salazar/Harry

Harry is sent 'somehow' to the era of the founders. Suri Slytherin uses a rite to restore Salazar (Information on his life threatening injury to be revealed latter.) with Harry's life source. Harry is Salazar but not him. The body of combined Salazar/Harry does not have Harry's genes which means that Harry could not be his own ansestor (as things might play out).

Rowena who will be explained later, has absolutly no seer blood (or gypsy blood as it is called) but still managed to produce a prophecy. Godric took the prophecy as a bait and excuse to force Salazar out of Hogwarts. Remember, Back then English were all about honor. They had to do things in the proper, gentlemanly way. It was unbecoming to show such rank emotions. (Granted, i am a touch ahead of times here, around the founders time, Beowulf was first published and it was written in Old English, which i have heard spoken, and it is near impossible to understand, therefore I am using a mild cross between middle english and modern english to write the founders.)

Travel back to future: wow, that is slightly redundant.

Anyway, Salazar has a reason for traveling to the future. How he got their is a by Quinn, the Elquinic. The Elquinic will be explained later, along with several other beings.

To Essira Kestrel.

In times of old, young ladies were married young, as young as the age of 12. It is barbaric, but not unrealistic. If you look at some of Europe's nobility, if my memory serves, several have been promised to mere todlers. Also culture was different. Although wizards live longer (this is supposed, not acutal facts from the books) They still had a relatively shorter lifespan, and people married earlier than they do in todays age and day.

Who said that Hogwarts never had a stable. I think that Hogwarts once had Equestrian genre in their ciricululm, along with possibly sword fight and etiqite. In my story, as the times changed and different transportation was established, a stable was no longer needed, there for abandoned. And they wouldnt want the stable too close to Hogwarts, else the stench of, (ehm) manure, would be overwhelming.

James will be explained in a later chapter, possibly by Rowena.

I hope this clears things up,

Hand Steriods


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